


life, a fleeting thing

by fandom_sexual



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Aged-Up Bran Stark, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Arthur Dayne Lives, BAMF Bran Stark, Canon Dialogue, Canon Divergence - Bran Stark Doesn't Fall, Different Magic Than Canon, Lyanna Stark Lives, M/M, Magic, Magical Boys, POV Bran Stark, Rhaegar Targaryen Lives, Technically he does, The Battle of the Trident, Time Travel, Tower of Joy, Winterfell, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:55:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25607731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandom_sexual/pseuds/fandom_sexual
Summary: Another bs title, lmao
Relationships: Arthur Dayne/Bran Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen, Arthur Dayne/Ned Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen, Arthur Dayne/Rhaegar Targaryen, Bran Stark/Robb Stark/Jon Snow, Catelyn Stark/Ned Stark, Jon Snow/Robb Stark, Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	life, a fleeting thing

Bran falls.

He is pushed.

Time seems to have slowed down. 

The ground is slowly coming closer to meet his body.

Bran thinks its going to hurt.

A lot.

Instead, there is no pain.

Only a void.

*

Bran opens his eyes, and finds himself in a room.

In a tower.

Different than the one he was just pushed off of.

He is not in Winterfell anymore.

He thinks this should bother him a lot more than it does.

The air feels hotter than he has ever felt, and he knows somehow he is far south than he has ever been.

Bran doesn't know how he knows, but he knows that he is in the past.

He gets up, and is immediately greeted by surprised voices.

And he sees Arya lying in a bed of blood.

He rushes forward, and realizes that the woman that lies is not Arya, but someone who looks remarkably like her.

Someone remarkably like the statue of his Aunt Lyanna in the Winterfell Crypts.

And just as soon he nears the bed, he realizes that she had just given birth.

And that she is dying.

Bran is aware of people shouting, of swords clashing, of feet running, but he doesn't pay them any mind, as he reaches forward, to touch her face.

He feels a rough hand on his shoulder, just as he touches her face.

Abruptly, everything around him shifts, and he feels himself falling backwards.

He lands with a thump, and now finds himself surrounded by green.

He has never seen so much green in his life.

There is no snow anywhere.

He stands, and the view takes his breath away.

It's not the snow covered beauty that is the North, but it's beautiful in its own way.

He again somehow knows he is further in the past, just a little further than the tower.

There are green trees everywhere, the sound of a river flowing, of wildlife, and its all so pleasant.

He walks, and spots a still body.

A human body, besides the river. 

He runs.

When he nears the body, he slows.

The body is of a man with long silvery hair, that are spilled around him.

He looks tranquil. Peaceful.

But Bran realizes he is dying. And not.

He kneels beside the man, and curiously reaches out to touch the blood pouring out of him, but a yell from the distance stops him.

"Stay away from him," a man's voice shouts.

And Bran knows this is wrong, the man shouldn't be here.

Only him, and the dying-not-dying man.

There is a sword at his throat, and he looks up at the man.

He has blonde hair, and is armored for battle, and he looks afraid.

"Who - what are you?" he asks, "how have you bought me here?"

Before Bran can answer, the man gasps, and he finds him looking at the point of the sword at his throat.

Curiously, Bran looks down to see the sword point somewhere in his throat, it somehow having passed through him, without a single drop of blood spilling, and he realizes that he doesn't feel the sword there at all.

The man topples away from him.

"You shouldn't be here," Bran says quietly with a frown.

And then abondons the man to his fears.

He leans forward, and reaches out again, as if in a trance, to the dying-not-dying man beside him.

As soon as he touches him, everything around him shifts again, and he feels himself going forward.

And now he finds himself in a large room in a castle.

And a little girl lies dying beside him.

Bran reaches out to touch her in a trance, but stops himself just as his hand is about to make contact with her face.

He feels the need to touch her face, but he controls this all powerful feeling.

As he withdraws his hand with effort, everything around him shatters and crumbles.

And he is flung back.

And this fall is longer.

More fast.

More viscious.

And he sees eyes everywhere.

The crying ones of the heart tree.

The three of a crow.

The yellow of Summer.

The red of fire.

The blue of ice.

And his body finally reaches the ground.

And it hurts. A lot.

But the pain fades away, immediately.

He realizes his eyes are closed, so he slowly opens them.

And he finds himself back at the base of the broken tower.

Summer whimpering beside him.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what the fuck this is or where this is heading, I was writing something completely different and somehow ended up writing this.
> 
> Apart from Jon/Robb and Arthur/Rhaegar I don't even know which ships this fic is gonna have, I have just tagged the ones that I'm currently leaning towards, and none of these are probably even going to happen.
> 
> Don't worry though, you or I won't be finding it out, since this is never getting updated, ever again. 🙃


End file.
